


This Play Is Called Our Town

by TheBlackLagoon



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Hoshi has stage fright, Jumping to Conclusions, M/M, Phlox gives off such chaotic theater teacher vibes that I couldn't not, T'Pol is a stage manager through and through, Theater Kids, also debilitating levels of anxiety, bonding through Our Town monologues, lots of teenage angst, mistaken relationships, our town, they're just dumbasses, which isn't actual angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23062813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackLagoon/pseuds/TheBlackLagoon
Summary: Hoshi Sato has a thing about public speaking, T'Pol has post-hippie parents, No one really knows how Phlox got his nickname and people bond over Our Town Monologues. A happy ending is most definitely imminent.
Relationships: Hoshi Sato/T'Pol, minor Malcolm Reed/Charles "Trip" Tucker III, minor minor Archer/Shran
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	This Play Is Called Our Town

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jadzeanna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadzeanna/gifts).



> It's uhh, 1 a.m as I'm posting this, and I have energy to be creative and witty. Here is chapter one of a very self-indulgent highschool au for a show I last watched in full when I was nine. Do with it what you will. (Also I did not use a beta, so I'll probably re-read this tomorrow and find like fifty mistakes, but again, 1 a.m)

Hoshi Sato has always been a planner. It's never mattered the occasion, the casualness level, or even if she didn't genuinely care about the event. She simply _had_ to have a plan. Her mother thought it may have something to do with the anxiety, her father said it was because she felt she needed control over everything. But Hoshi knew for a fact, it just made things run smoother. There was no second-guessing if you had a plan. No wondering if you’d made the right decision because you’d  _ already  _ decided. Because it was in  _ the plan _ . 

And okay, maybe it did have something to do with her anxiety, which also played into her need for control, but who was to say she wasn’t right? When had something ever gone wrong when Hoshi planned things out. Things stayed neat, tidy, in their place. When Hoshi planned things, they went right.

And she had shown that exact diligence her entire high school career. She was a good student. Not genius-level good, but a hard worker. An aptitude for English and Foreign languages. She’d had to work a little harder for her grades in math and science, but they were nothing to scoff at. Hoshi was a good student because she’d planned it that way, so that by senior year she would have no questioning thoughts about college acceptance. 

Which is all why the words coming out of her debate teacher's mouth seem to be indecipherable static. 

“Hoshi you’re failing my class,” Mr. Archer says with a sigh, like he doesn’t want to be telling her this. As if it affects him at all. As if Hoshi’s world isn’t crumbling beneath her feet.

“But I thought- what about the extra credit I did last term?” Hoshi stutters out, her hands gripping blindly at the edges of the desk in front of her. She needs something to settle her, to release her from this horrible sinking feeling. The desk is failing monumentally.

“That was fine last term, but you failed to attend two debates since then.” 

“But I was sick, I had a note from the nurse and-“

“Hoshi you’ve been sick for every debate we’ve had this year. You have spoken once. Can you see the problem here?”

Hoshi can feel her throat constricting, her eyes stinging. At any second the waterworks are going to start, and her embarrassment levels would shoot through the roof. When Mr. Archer had called her in after class she had assumed it had something to do with the subpar notes she’d turned in for the last article assignment. This is- this…

Trying to fight back the ache starting in her chest, she slowly nods her head in confirmation. Archer pauses for a moment, trying to meet her eyes, and then slowly leans back in his chair with a frown.

“Hoshi, I’ve had you before, you were an incredible student in my honors English 11. I  _ know _ you’ve got an A average GPA. I just can’t seem to understand what’s happening here.” 

“I- I-” She's trying to get something out, but it’s stuck, way down deep in her stomach. This nauseous feeling she gets every time she thinks of even  _ standing _ in front of a group of people. She feels like she’s going to puke. 

Mr. Archer doesn’t wait for her to continue her stuttered assurances though, as he’s shuffling through files in his desk.

“I didn’t just call you in to deliver bad news, I don't  _ want _ you to fail Hoshi,” Archer says and he smiles slightly at her like he’s trying to make her feel better about the fact she’s apparently not good enough.

“What could I do?” She asks, and she hates the way her voice cracks at the end. She knows Mr. Archer is a decent enough listener he heard the failing of her voice. He looks to her sympathetically, then pushes forward a slip of paper.

“This is an audition form from the theater department,” Hoshi says disbelieving, her mind going blank at the meanings behind the sheet of paper.

“Mr. Phillips has been kind enough to work with me on this Hoshi. He’s agreed to work with you on- calming exercises to combat stage fright.”

“But what does this have to do with- auditions?” Hoshi’s voice is definitely wavering now. She  _ knows _ she’s teeter-tottering on the edge of real tears.

“That was his amendment, he wants you to try out,” at Hoshi’s startled expression Archer continues quickly, “But, that in no way means you’ll be cast. Phillips just wants to see how you react to the pressure. From there he’ll know how to coach you.”

“Mr. Archer  _ I can’t _ -”

“You’ll have to, I’m sorry Hoshi but if you can’t speak, you can’t get the grade,” Mr. Archer says firmly, no hesitance or room for argument in his voice.

Hoshi inhales slowly through her nose, her vision blurring slightly at the edges with unshed tears. She can’t fail this class, there is no  _ room _ for failure. It’s nowhere near her plans for the future.

“Auditions are when?” Her voice comes out in a choked little croak, but she at least said it, and she’ll take it for the win it is.

“Tomorrow after school, Phillips said that it wouldn’t take longer than five minutes,” Mr. Archer says softly, and she appreciates it immensely.

She nods her head quickly, taking a swipe at her slightly dripping nose and says, “Alright.”

She grabs at her bag, trying to keep her breathing even, and stands shakily to her feet. Just as she reaches the door Mr. Archer speaks up. 

“This is all just to build up your confidence Hoshi. If Phillips can get you to speak, you can do your debates. I know your writing is elegant and persuasive. I have no doubt when you put your mind to it, you can be just as good vocally as on paper.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Archer,” Hoshi says quietly, and Archer nods solemnly at her. 

“Lunch will be ending soon, you better hurry.” Hoshi doesn’t need to be told twice as she rushes from the room, into the quiet solace of the school's empty hallways. 

**~~~**

“He’s making you do  _ what?” _ Travis gapes, a spoonful of the lunchrooms watery macaroni and cheese still halfway to his mouth.

“I have to audition for Our Town,” Hoshi groans, head tucked under her arms like a protective shield. She’s felt queasy ever since she stepped foot out of Archer’s room, and the dreary-looking salad next her has not suddenly appeared more appetizing.

“ _And then what?_ Is he going to have you sing in the school talent show? Did you at least tell him about your whole stomach thing?” Travis scowls down at his meal, scooping up another mouthful half-heartedly.

“I couldn’t-  _ I can’t _ . He’d be disappointed in me if I told him I puke at the thought of public speaking. I mean, how pathetic is that?” Hoshi says wearily, peaking her eyes up over her arms. She can see Travis roll his eyes as he takes a bite, and she buries her head back down. 

“Plenty of people go their whole lives without speaking publicly. Haven’t you been turning in your notes for the assignments?”

“They’re only worth 20% Trav, the other 80% is the debate itself,” Hoshi moans, and tries, impossibly, to sink even further onto the table. She can hear Travis chewing softly, and then finally he clears his throat. She glances up slowly.

“Okay so, you know you have to do it, there’s no option otherwise. Archer said it would take what- five minutes- that’s nothing! You once had the foreign language club stay up for five hours to finish work for the fundraising bake sale! And we did it happily! Five minutes is nothing, you're going to kick that audition’s ass,” Travis says firmly, pointing his spoon at her like some kind of deciding gavel. Hoshi frowns, picks at a spot in the lunch table, and then sighs loftily.

“It’s just five minutes. Five minutes never killed anybody,” Hoshi says quietly, and Travis grins victoriously. 

“That’s the spirit! And according to this, it’s a cold reading which I’m pretty sure means you won’t have to memorize anything by Friday,” Travis says, picking up the audition form Archer had given her.

“Memorizing would be the least of my worries Travis,” Hoshi says, and then promptly steals a slice of bell pepper from his tray. He doesn’t stop her but he shoots her a dirty look that only makes her smile.

“You’ve worked sets for the theater department in the past, haven't you?” Hoshi asks after a moment, watching the crowds of people milling about them. Lunch is nearly over, and throngs of people are pushing themselves to the cafeteria’s exits. 

“Yeah, mostly I was a helping hand, I did a bit of everything. Ya know It’s probably best you’re just doing this as a test runs for Phillips. Theater kids can be… intense,” Travis says with a slight shiver and Hoshi laughs, playing absentmindedly with her audition form. She stands idly, waiting for Travis to shovel the last remanence of macaroni and cheese into his mouth.

“What- is the thespian troupe a  _ cult _ ?” Hoshi giggles again, and Travis grins at her as he stands with his tray.

“You laugh now Hoshi, but just those five minutes with them and you’ll understand,” Travis says walking backward as he talks to her. Hoshi starts to laugh again when before she can do anything to stop him he rams straight into the person behind him. Travis gives a less than dignified squawk, while the person behind him simply freezes in place as their leftovers are strewn about the floor and onto themselves. Hoshi watches Travis’s face turn from mortified to terrified in seconds flat as he turns to inspect who it is he’s inconvenienced.

Hoshi doesn’t know her, or at least, has never been officially introduced to the girl in front of her. She's seen her in the halls once or twice, looking severe and unapproachable. Maybe if Hoshi had ever had enough courage she’d have maybe spoken to her, tried to become her friend. Except Hoshi never has courage to spare, and now she's simply left staring point-blank at the leftover milk dripping down the front of this terrifying girls sweater. 

“T’Pol I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” Travis stutters, quickly dropping to the ground to collect her fallen lunch.

“That is… evident,” is the stilted reply, as T’Pol drags a hand down her soiled sweater with obvious disdain. Travis gets up sheepishly with her now carefully collected lunch trash, and she takes it without another word. Travis and Hoshi watch as she carefully makes her way to the trash cans at the exit, dumps her tray, and exits all with perfectly poised posture. Hoshi has a sudden revelation.

“She’s in theater… isn’t she?” 

Travis carefully sidesteps the puddle of milk, and does not look back at her as he says “Yep.”

  
  


**~~~**

The problem with failing debate is that Hoshi's mother doesn't _know_ she is failing debate. As parents go Mutsumi Sato is a respectful and kind figure in Hoshi’s life. She has never been over-analytical of Hoshi’s school performance, never checked grades without Hoshi’s knowledge until grades were officially due. They had a system, as long as Hoshi pulled through with at least a B by the end of the semester, Hoshi obviously knew what she was doing. If Hoshi needed help, she could always go to her mom. This however never stopped Hoshi from being terrified of maternal disappointment. So the debate grade would stay a secret until the last possible minute. 

This did, however, make auditioning for the school play a little hard to explain. 

“What about your foreign language club? Don’t you think play rehearsal will get in the way of that?” Mutsumi asks, leaning away from the sink where she’s been washing lettuce. Hoshi shrugs, hopping onto one of the kitchen island chairs, and does a little spin.

“I can have other hobbies mom,” Hoshi mutters, stopping her spinning to watch as her mom looks at her quizzically.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to audition, it’s just- I didn’t think you liked that kind of attention,” Her mother says laying out paper towels to set and dry the lettuce. 

“Well- some of my friends are auditioning and I-”

“Who else is auditioning?” Mutsumi asks cutting in, and Hoshi flounders for a moment.

“Just- just Travis,” Hoshi stutters, leaning over the island to grab an apple from their fruit basket. Her mother sends her a look and waves a hand at the pile of lettuce stacked and drying, ready for dinner. Hoshi sets the apple down with a frown.

“Well, I don’t see a problem with it as long as you make sure your club knows you’ll be missing meetings,” Mutsumi says with a shrug, and Hoshi sighs.

“I won’t get cast, so it won’t be a big deal.”

“That doesn’t seem like a great attitude to be going forward with,” her mother clucks softly, checking the rice steamer carefully. Hoshi slides from her chair and heads to the cabinets for plates, and her mother pats her shoulder in thanks as she gathers the correct amount and starts setting the table for dinner. 

“Would you mind getting Kaito and Hikaru, they’re upstairs playing legos,” Mutsumi asks nodding her head towards the stairs, and Hoshi puts down the last napkin with a nod. She lets herself slide on the hardwood grabbing onto the banister and swinging herself around to catapult up the stairs when suddenly her mother's voice makes her pause. 

“And Hoshi- I have a feeling you’ll do better than you think at auditions tomorrow.” Hoshi freezes, can see her mom is barely even paying attention but knows she means it, has actual confidence in Hoshi. Confidence that Hoshi simply can not have in herself. 

“Thanks, mom,” Hoshi says quietly, hand gripping the banister so hard her knuckles go white, and then before her mother can say another word she's racing up the stairs trying to keep the panic bubbling in her chest from spilling out. 

A five-minute audition. That’s all it was. Five minutes, and then Mr. Phillips would help her pass debate. 

And Mutsumi Sato would be none the wiser. 

**~~~**

Hoshi’s classes on Friday go by in a blur. She spends most of them sunk low in her seat trying to ease the growing knot in her stomach. Travis tries to talk to her between passing periods, but she can barely think through the nerves. She has no idea how’ll she get through an audition. 

Lunch is a dismal affair, where Hoshi has to pass on even her normal salad and Travis bemoans the incredibly dry chicken sandwiches. They both sit silently as T’Pol passes their lunch table.

Hoshi watches her, all long-limbed and straight-laced. She’s got earbuds in, face impassive as she tips her tray into the trash near the front doors. 

Hoshi does not know what her new fascination is with this girl. She does know, it seems to be helping the choking nerves she’s been feeling the past 24 hours, to focus on other more interesting subjects. Like the fact, T’Pol is wearing a pair of beat-up Chuck Taylor’s. Scribbles in sharpie line the heel, the laces are frayed, and dirt clings to the worn canvas. They seem so absolutely humanizing, Hoshi is forced to remember she’s staring at a real live person. She turns away so quickly that Travis has to move his tray in an effort to not be knocked off the lunch table.

Hoshi’s day does not improve from there.

It passes in a blur, and she ends up in A.P Bio with a quiz she’d forgotten in all the drama. She takes it half paying attention and somehow manages not to fail it. 

And then school is letting out, and Travis is wishing her luck, giving her a hug and a small shoulder squeeze, and then she’s outside the school's black box with a crumpled audition form.

Hannah Fisher, a fellow senior is standing vigil, taking people’s forms, directing people in and out of the black box for their individual auditions. Hoshi had taken Japanese with her freshman year, and a familiar face is all she needs to feel a little more centered. Hannah smiles at Hoshi over her clipboard and takes the proffered audition sheet without question. 

Carefully, not to get in the way of the other nervous-looking students, Hoshi chooses a spot at least a yard away and sits down on the floor.  She plays absently with the cuff of her jeans and follows the nonsense patterns in the linoleum. 

“Hoshi, you're up now,” Hannah says suddenly, and Hoshi's head startles up to see her motioning with the clipboard to the open doorway. _It was already time?_ Hoshi glances at her watch and notices alarmingly, a good 20 minutes have passed since she’d sat down. 

Hoshi rises to her feet, unsteady and still a little queasy, already missing the calm the cool linoleum floors had brought her. Hannah opens the door to the black box and Hoshi takes her first steps in while holding her breath.

The black box is only half-lit, with a table, and chairs set up in the middle of the room. Mr. Phillips is the only person occupying them, and he waves Hoshi over with a smile when she enters cautiously. 

“I’m- Hoshi Sato, and I’ll be… auditioning today,” Hoshi says, her voice dropping to a near whisper. Phillips only motions her forward a bit more and then places his hands in front of him.

“Okay Ms. Sato, I’m going to have your read for Emily Webb. Is that alright with you?” Mr. Phillips asks, smile so wide it almost seems to fall into the uncanny valley. Hoshi nods her head spastically and grabs the script being handed to her. 

“Now, there’s a taped x right over there, yes right there, now, all you have to do is read to me like you’d read-aloud a book. Nothing fancy, just read for me Ms. Sato,” Phillips says carefully, still all smiles, and Hoshi can’t help but feel the tension of the day ease from her shoulders.

Mr. Archer had told her this was a no stress audition. She would read, and then it would be over.

Glancing down at the photocopied script Hoshi began. 

To be truthful, she’d never seen Our Town, was only slightly familiar with the concept, but Emily’s monologue was-  _ moving _ . As she reached the good-byes Hoshi could feel her throat ache with Emily’s melancholy.

“Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover's Corners. Mama and Papa. Good-bye to clocks ticking, and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths, and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you.” Hoshi has to pause, collect herself to finish. She is only vaguely aware Phillips is still in the room.

“Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? - every, every minute?” As the last line leaves her lips Hoshi slowly comes back to herself. Her legs are shaky, and her hands had been gripping the paper so hard she’s crumpled it. But Philips is positively glowing when she meets his eyes.

“That was fantastic Ms. Sato. Truly fantastic. A wonderful job at capturing emotional intensity of the scene- Ms. Blalock wouldn’t you agree?” Mr. Phillips turns, and to Hoshi’s horror, she realizes she’d missed quite clearly the second person in the room.

T’Pol, with her perfect posture and ragged Chuck Taylors, has been sitting further back in the room, her book bag and notebook spread out at a desk. She looks at Hoshi for the briefest of moments, face impossible to read, and then turns all her attention to Phillips.

“She was… decent,” T’Pol says calmly, no inflection, but it feels like a slap across the face to Hoshi. Phillips only grins.

“I’d say more than decent! Thank you ever so much, Ms. Sato, you are free to go, the cast list will be up Monday morning so no need to be too impatient,” Phillips gives a little laugh, and Hoshi awkwardly smiles. 

It comes off as more of a grimace.

As soon as Phillips waves her goodbye she is out the door. And she does not look back. 

**~~~**

Hoshi knows she did not get a role in Our Town. She is 100%, absolutely certain she did not. 

She’d rushed the audition. Had been too quiet. Phillips hadn’t seemed so pleased with her diction. T’Pol had- well Hoshi couldn’t really read to T’Pol, but she was sure she’d been displeased with the monologue.

Hoshi tells herself all of this as she descends from the bus on Monday morning. Her first class is honors Calc. To get to her honors Calc classroom, she has to pass the auditorium. The auditorium is where the cast list is to be posted. 8 a.m sharp.

Hoshi knows she’s not going to get a role.

Travis meets her at the front doors of the school, his hands gripping tightly to his backpack straps. He smiles at her, reassuringly. 

Hoshi can feel her feet taking shorter and shorter steps as they near the auditorium. Can feel Travis lag to keep up with her. Her stomach is doing flips, and she tries to focus on the early morning chatter of the hallways. So many indistinct conversations. So many different voices. She can feel her heartbeat slow as she lets the noise wash over her.

They reach the auditorium, and Travis reaches to grab her hand. A group of students, some Hoshi recognizes from the audition others probably supportive friends, all clambered together around the corkboard of announcements. Hoshi shuts her eyes tightly to listen carefully to the people in front of her.

_ Malcolm got the Narrator. Hannah got Mrs. Soames. Charlie got George Gibbs. Jake got Wally Webb. Hoshi got- _

Hoshi’s eyes snap open, and letting go of Travis’s hand she rushes to the front of the crowd, forgetting herself a moment as she pushes past the other students.

Her eyes scan the cast list, just a single sheet of paper. Such a simple little list. Her eyes catch on the name second to last.

Her heart does a somersault and then crashes horribly, achingly, to the floor.

_ Hoshi Sato as Emily Webb _

  
  



End file.
